Round Song
by theenchiridion
Summary: Stories of the characters around Tom Riddle's generation. Told through different POV's. Sorry I suck at giving summaries. Rated T to be on the safe side ;D *No copyright infringement intended. All characters owned by J.K.Rowling. You know, the whole shebang*
1. Tom, Fall 1938

**Hogwarts Express, September 1941**

Tom had been quietly studying the book he had bought with his few extra Knuts ('The Art of Learning Magic' by Brutus Fudge) when the doors of his compartment slid noisily. A boy about the same age as Tom stood awkwardly at the doorway. When their eyes met, the boy gave a tiny smile and a curt nod. Tom was slightly taken aback by the boy's formal gesture.

"Err, excuse me. Can my friend and I share this compartment with you? My sisters kicked me out of theirs and everywhere is full so..."

The boy's face contorted in slight discomfort as he explained his circumstances. Clearly the idea of asking favors does not sit well with him. But did he say friend? Tom looked around but saw nobody with him until a tiny bobbing yellow ball moved behind the boy's back. The ball moved further and Tom realized it was not a magical floating ball but the very blonde head of a very small girl. The girl stared intently at Tom as if studying a painting.

Even though he had wanted to be alone for the train ride, Tom decided that having somebody else might be a good idea. Perhaps they could answer some of the questions he had been thinking of since Dumbledore's visit.

"All right, come on in," he replied kindly.

"Thank you," said the boy, offering his hand. Tom shook it quickly but stared at it for a few moments before taking it.

Afterwards the boy took in his luggage along with his companion's into the compartment. He moved with efficiency as if he had been planning for this trip his whole life. Maybe he did, Tom thought. He must have grown up in a wizarding household and had been preparing for Hogwarts the minute he could say magic. After the boy and his friend settled down, the compartment once again filled with quiet.

Tom went back to his book but felt a strange sensation later; he sensed that the boy and the girl were staring at him. He loosened his collar a bit but went on reading. He already regretted having them share the compartment. The uncomfortable atmosphere hung in the room until it was pierced suddenly by a loud high-pitched whistle.

The train started moving and from his window Tom can see parents waving and bidding their children farewell. Some kids have stuck out of the window and giving teary goodbyes. The scene started to move and get smaller and smaller until the station and the people completely disappeared from his sight.

* * *

The boy and his friend had been chatting quietly much to Tom's delight and to add to the pleasure, they had not forced him to join their conversation. He observed that they must have known each other for a long time because sometimes they finished each other sentences. But most of the time the boy did the talking. He also noted that they spoke in a very proper manner, not like the brash talk he heard around the orphanage.

They were also dressed very well. The boy wore a simple cotton shirt and pants but they appeared to be tailor-made for him. He also wore the shiniest leather shoes Tom had ever seen. A sense of embarrassment came over him as he tried to push his own old brown shoes under the chair so they would not see. His black hair though was cut in a very severe manner which made him look too much like an adult. His dark eyes looked intent and with purpose. He was very lanky and tall, much like him. He reminded Tom strongly of the solicitor that came once a month at the orphanage and he had to keep himself from smiling at the thought.

The girl's appearance though was a strong contrast to her friend's. Whereas the boy looked very mature and grown-up, she looked like a delicate porcelain doll. Her eyes were very big and very blue. Her skin was rosy white with freckles scattered all over her face. She was so tiny that her feet barely touched the floor. And everything she wore matched.

_Sunday's best_, Tom told himself. Of course their parents wanted them to look their best on their first day of school. As he had read in Hogwarts, A History the first day meant Sorting. They were to be presented in front of the whole school and a Sorting Hat was placed on them to determine their House. Whatever that meant he had no idea, but at least he knows. He carefully chose what he wore that day but as he did not have many clothes to choose from, it was a quick process. However he dearly wished he had tailor-made outfits that matched.

"Uhm, hullo. Do you want some?"

It was the first time the girl had spoken directly to him. She held out a carefully wrapped package and gestured for Tom to take it.

"They're turkey sandwiches. My mother made them," she explained as she reached out to give the sandwiches to Tom. The sandwiches smelled wonderful and Tom murmured a thanks as he took them. The girl looked pleased that she had shared her food with him.

He hadn't noticed how far the train had gone. A moment ago there were houses and buildings whizzing by the window, now fields and farms went by in a blur. He also did not notice how hungry he was. The aroma of the sandwiches made his mouth water. He opened the wax paper and ate. "Mmm, they're really good", he said.

"They are, aren't they? Sophia's mother is the best cook in the world," the boy exclaimed as he bit into his own share. "I wish my mother can cook, too," he added wistfully. Suddenly his face shook in alarm and looked from the girl to Tom. "Oh, I'm sorry. We didn't get to introduce ourselves. We were so excited about Hogwarts that we just started talking and we didn't want to interrupt you from reading your book. Both of us are first years and we didn't want to bother you."

"Oh, but I'm a first year too. I was just reading to pass the time," Tom replied politely. "I'm Tom, Tom Riddle."

The boy and the girl looked at Tom and both cast admiring looks upon him. Tom felt slightly proud that they were impressed by him.

"I'm Bartemius Crouch. But just call me Barty," said the boy.

"My name's Sophia Smith," spoke the girl as she gave him a warm smile. She looked down to the floor before looking back at Tom. "The way you were reading, both of us thought you were at least a second year. 'The Art of Learning Magic', that's an OWL level book, you know."

"Owl? The bird?" Tom asked, quizzically.

"O-W-L – Ordinary Wizarding Level. It's a test to see if you're an up-to-standard wizard. Also to determine your NEWTs", Barty explained breathlessly. "My sister has a copy, a much newer edition though. It's a review book of all the magic you've learned in five years. She says it's good for a quick read if you're cramming for exams."

None of the things they said made any sense to Tom. He thought he had been prepared enough for studying at this Hogwarts (he managed to read all the books assigned to him and practice some spells) but it was not enough, clearly. He felt a sense of defeat at the realization and must have looked crestfallen because the way both Sophia and Barty looked upon him changed.

"Muggle-born?" Barty asked.

_That phrase_, Tom told himself. It infuriated him to be called that though he did not have a reason to feel that way. It just made him feel less special, as if he was a second-class kind of person.

"I grew up with M-Muggles," Tom stuttered. He never stuttered. "Honestly, I could barely keep up with half the things you two said. I read all the books assigned to us and even tried a few spells. But truthfully, I really don't know much about wizards and magic." He gave them a meek smile and hoped they would buy the helpless persona.

Sophia nodded her head in understanding while Barty eyed him curiously. Tom looked down and stared at the floor. It felt better not having to see their faces.

"A lot of Muggle-borns do as well as those who are from wizarding families in Hogwarts." Sophia said encouragingly. "And you did say you have read the books and practiced some spells and by the looks of it, you are way ahead many of us. I barely touched my school things after I bought them at Diagon Alley," she added with a mischievous smile on her face. "If you're afraid of being at the bottom of the class, don't worry, that'll be me. I was surprised I got my letter. I barely exhibited any magic till a year ago."

Sophia looked startled about her personal confession. She looked out the window which was now dark and gloomy. The trees were very thick in this area and the sky had now turned a deep lavender. A few moments of silence passed between the three of them.

"We better get changed into our robes," announced Barty, breaking the silence. He took out a silver pocket watch and looked at the time. "We should be there in a few minutes."

They all took out their robes and dressed quickly. As expected, Barty and Sophia sported brand new robes while Tom had to be content with his second-hand ones. A heavy quiet once fell over their compartment and it made Tom feel very perturbed.

Slowly his excitement about the prospects of Hogwarts became tinged with nerves. But why was that? Sophia had thought he is already ahead many of his peers. Surely that's a good sign. However Barty was still eyeing him in a peculiar manner. Was it his Muggle upbringing?

As the train started to slow down Tom felt to his relief that his anxiousness is drifting away. He decided not to let anything bother him. Not Sophia. Not Barty.

He was special. He knows it.

* * *

**Author's Note** : This story came to me when a few years back when I J.K. Rowling released an incomplete family tree for the Blacks. If you've seen it, there was a Charlus Potter and a Caspar Crouch that married into the Black family. Some have suggested that Charlus is James' dad (it was indicated that he had one son) and Caspar is Barty Sr.'s dad. But I think Harry would have noticed these or Sirius would have definitely pointed it out to Harry. (In HBP, they were looking at the Black family tree for an awfully long time and even Harry noticed that Sirius was related to Lucius!). I think the family tree was just a way for J.K. to illustrate that most wizarding families are related (or maybe just to tease us with the possibilities IDK, haha). But this whole pre-Harry Hogwarts got me thinking about Tom Riddle's Hogwarts. Some of the Blacks were definitely within Tom Jr's generation. Also they lived in such an interesting time; WWII is raging while they were at Hogwarts and that must have been some great stories to tell. So yeah, that's my excuse for writing this fic. Also this is the first fic I have published so a review would be nice. Thanks for visiting! Updates should be weekly, I hope :D


	2. Barty, Fall 1941

**Hogwarts, Fall of 1941**

___Acceptable._

Barty groaned as he looked one more time at his latest Arithmancy essay. Professor Nicodemus' handwriting was hard to read at times but there can be no mistaking the words written on his paper. The scrawled letters in red ink was as clear as day.

Acceptable.

The professor strode around the room handing back papers to his class. Students shook in their seats when the professor stood next to them.

"Library, Mr. Rosier. Have you heard of it?" Rosier rolled his eyes as the professor gave him back his paper. Nicodemus shook his head. "There's a big difference between Chinese number systems and Arabic ones. And it's not just because they come from different countries."

Professor Nicodemus walked around for a few moments, reprimanding students for their poorly written essays. He reached Tom Riddle's seat and gave a rare smile. "Another excellent paper Mr. Riddle, the only O I have given this class. Deserves ten points for Slytherin I think," said Professor Nicodemus as he handed Tom his paper. Everyone in the classroom started clapping so Barty had to join, though half – heartedly. _Thank you sir_, he heard Tom mumble.

"Everyone should note Mr. Riddle's example. Putting effort into your work goes a long way," reminded the professor. He looked at his watch and clucked his tongue. "All right then, class dismissed."

Barty chucked his paper deep inside his bag and walked off in a hurry.

* * *

Bartemius knew his paper could have been written better, but what can he do? With the looming first Quidditch match of the season, all his free time was spent practicing on the pitch. He barely had time to complete his schoolwork properly. He is starting to believe what his friends said; he might have bitten off more than he could chew. Choosing an additional three classes during his third year seemed interesting, it was a challenge but he pulled through. Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Muggle Studies were a lot of fun and his professors were all good – but it's posing too much stress now during his fourth year.

Things started to change when he got on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He joined on a lark – his friend, Gordon McKinnon was trying out for Beater and asked if Barty can join him. Due to some mix up, the captain thought Barty was trying out too and he felt too embarrassed to correct him so tried out anyway.

Lo and behold, he passed and was chosen to play Keeper (as did Gordon)! He got on well with the team and enjoyed playing Quidditch. He was not that good, but he tried his hardest. Also, he noted the change of attitude towards him by his fellow classmates, being a Quidditch player helped his image. Vain as it sounds, it added some spring to his steps.

However things took a turn for the worse when his class standing started to slip. He prided himself on being above average when it comes to academics but the recent string of Acceptables he got from his professors seem to prove otherwise.

There was no Quidditch practice scheduled for that night so Barty decided to head to the library as soon as he finished his dinner. _No more excuses_, he told himself. _Can't have Riddle taking all the professors attention_.

* * *

Barty did not hate Riddle but he does not like him either. He was the _best_ at everything, their professors made it very clear the very first week of their classes at Hogwarts. Everyone immediately took a liking to him; he seemed to gain favors easily. But Barty felt indifferent towards Tom, he still remembers the train ride he shared with him on their first year. Tom revealed that he had not grown up with wizarding folk so Barty assumed that he was a Muggle–born. He did not mean anything bad by it but Tom seemed to think that he did. He would never forget that look. Tom had hate in his eyes.

From that point on, he never felt comfortable being around Riddle. Hearing how good he was irritated him. His classmates seemed to worship the very ground he walked on – incredibly unnerving. The years passed and Tom's influence only increased. _Tom, this, Tom, that_; Barty felt tired just hearing his name.

* * *

The library gently buzzed with the sound of quills running over parchments and whispered words from the students inside. Sophia and Barty took to the table at the farthest corner of the room; after a few hours the table was covered with tons of books. Sophia gently ribbed him for his sudden enthusiasm in doing ordinary homework but Barty brushed away her teasing. Even though Sophia can be frivolous at times, she was a good friend to have around and was a much better motivator when it comes to studies. She was also quite serious about academics (a true hardworking Hufflepuff), unlike his Gryffindor friends who would rather play Quidditch than be cooped up in the library.

"Can you take a look over my essay? I just want to make sure I haven't forgotten anything," said Barty as he handed Sophia his Potions essay. Sophia looked up from her reading and took the roll of parchment. She gave him an inquiring look.

"You've never made me read any of your essays before," she said, with a faint tone of surprise in her voice. "Well, never willingly. Is there something wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing. Just wanted a second – opinion, that's all. You're taking Care of Magical Creatures so I think you'd have more of an idea about venoms used in potions..." he reasoned. It was partly true what he said. He chose to study Muggle Studies over Care of Magical Creatures because he thought it a more practical option (he planned on working for the Ministry and thought that studying Muggle behavior is important). But the truth was he badly needed to make sure he was not leaving anything to chance, a second–opinion is _crucial_. And Sophia's opinion mattered to him greatly.

"All right. But I'm not buying that story," she said. She rolled her eyes at him before starting on his paper. Barty had to smile to himself, Sophia knew him too well. Just then a fit of giggles broke down a few tables away from them.

Peering from behind the tower of books, Barty saw the culprit - a second-year Ravenclaw. The girl looked over at the Reference Section with much delight. She was trying to muffle the sounds of her laughter by putting her hands over her mouth but it did not do any good. Her pigtails quivered every time she laughed to herself.

"Hi Tom," said the bespectacled girl, grinning from ear to ear.

Tom Riddle emerged from the bookshelves near the Reference Section. Barty saw that he was not alone, his usual gang was with him – Avery, Mulciber, Nott, and Rosier. He found it strange that Tom, who was known throughout Hogwarts for his charming personality, hung out with the Slytherin brats.

The Ravenclaw girl did not seem to mind the presence of Avery and the others as she only had eyes for Tom. Their voices were more toned down than before and Barty could not make out what they were talking about. But whatever Tom was saying it was making the girl giggle further.

"You're Myrtle, right?" Tom asked the girl with glasses. Myrtle blushed profusely, meekly nodding her head.

"It was nice talking you, but –," Tom stopped as he looked up and set his gaze upon Barty's direction. Barty swallowed as his and Tom's eyes met.

Tom swiftly excused himself from the company of the adoring fan and made his way to Barty's table. _Please don't come here_, prayed Barty.

"Hello, Crouch," greeted Tom. "That's a lot of books you are reading there and I – oh, Sophia you're here, too."

Sophia had been oblivious to what was happening (she took to checking Barty's essay seriously) and had only looked up when Tom called her name. "Oh," she said in surprise. "Err, what I mean is, hi Tom," she answered back, giving Tom a half-smile.

"Is that the Potions essay for Slughorn? I have just finished mine, let me give you a hand with that..." offered Tom. Before Barty could protest, Tom sat beside Sophia and started reading _his_ essay. He did not know what was more mortifying, Tom Riddle reading his Potions essay or him being so close to Sophia. He looked away to hide his confusion and saw that everybody in the room was keeping a watchful eye in their direction.

The Ravenclaw girl had her sight locked on to them; her eyes turning rounder with every second. Tom's gang took a seat at the opposite table and watched with obvious amusement at the unfolding scenario. Even the older students had to stop what they were doing to see what was happening. Barty stared at the palm of his hands and wished that he could Dissaparate.

"That's a fair point about Acromantula venom, but given the rarity and the obvious unpleasant nature of the beasts, it would be mad to suggest that it's the best alernative to wolfsbane." Tom stroked his chin and looked like he was deep in thought. "The theory is sound but what possible venom could..."

Sophia suddenly sat upright and made a soft "Oh" sound. "Doxy!" She quickly took a book from the table and leafed the pages with enthusiasm. "Look here Tom... 'Doxy venom has been used in experiments as a magical sedative with positive results.' Its common enough here in Britain, so acquiring it isn't so farfetched. Sure Doxy bites are horrid, but compared to having a go at Acromantulas, facing Doxies is like a walk in the park."

Tom's face lit up and nodded in silent agreement. Barty cannot help but notice how impressed Tom looked at Sophia; she in turn shrugged her shoulders but it was undeniable how happy she seemed. An inexplicable pain shot up in Barty's chest and despite better judgment, he grabbed his essay away from the two and folded it sharply in his hands.

"Well, thank you for all your suggestions. Nobody asked you to Riddle, but I'm grateful for your help," Barty said, a little harshly for his own liking. He stood up and proceeded to haphazardly stuff his things inside his bag. Tom looked mildly shocked at his actions while Sophia bit her lip, moving her gaze away from Tom back to Barty.

"Wait, so it wasn't Sophia's essay…" Tom said softly. He dropped his eyes and sounded embarrassed as he spoke. "I didn't mean to do anything wrong, I'm really –"

"Just shut it, Riddle," bellowed Barty. Everyone in the room gave a loud audible gasp. Sophia looked worried and pleaded for Barty to calm down. Barty immediately regretted his outburst. He wanted to leave the library as quickly as possible and hurried to walk away but Tom's gang blocked him.

"I never knew you had such a temper, Crouch," hissed Avery and eyed Barty with extreme suspicion. "Tom was only trying to help, wasn't he mates?" Avery turned to his friends and all nodded yes. "So what's with the attitude, huh?" He gently shoved Barty' right shoulder and the other Slytherin boys looked suddenly menacing.

"Avery!" said Tom piercingly. Avery and his gang turned to look at Tom and their threatening aura disappeared. "There's no need for that, not here," he said quietly. Tom stood up and something strange happened, Barty could not figure it out but Tom's demeanor scared him.

"I was only trying to… He had no _right _to speak to you like that," stammered Avery as he fiddled with his hands and acted like a child that got caught by his parents doing something wrong.

"Ehem, what's all this commotion about boys?" growled a gravelly voice.

The library master, Master Martin Liber loomed over them. At his emergence, everyone who was openly gawking at them went back to what they were doing, only looking up now and again. Despite his thin and frail facade everyone dreaded Master Liber's presence.

"Oh, Master Liber we were just -," began Barty. Great, now Master Liber was bearing down on him too.

"We were just about to leave, but my friends and I wanted to wish Crouch good luck on his first Quidditch match," said Tom, his voice sounding extremely courteous. "Weren't we, Avery?" he shot a quick look at Avery.

"Yes, yes we were. We got to talking about to talking about Quidditch. Can't help it sir, as I'm on the Slytherin Quidditch team as well," spoke Avery through his gritted teeth. It was all a lie but Barty shook his head in accord.

"We're very sorry, Master Liber," apologized Tom. "We'll leave as quickly as possible so as not to be a bother anymore…" he bowed his head as if in deep shame.

Liber sounded annoyed and pursed his lips. "This is the library, young men, not the Quidditch pitch. Leave the talking outside," reprimanded Liber. "Riddle, I expected more of you but really, if it was just a simple mistake, then you boys can go." Master Liber motioned his hands for the boys to leave. The Slytherin boys quickly left the library but Riddle stayed behind for a bit and thanked the library master for his leniency before exiting.

"Glad that's been sorted out. As you were," said Master Liber as he headed back to his table. Barty slumped on a chair next to him and put his hands over his eyes. He let out a sigh and looked over at Sophia's place.

Sophia's face had the look of extreme confusion. She mouthed the word, _why_. The gravity of the situation hit Barty like a ton of bricks; his actions were not admirable to say the least. He felt extremely humiliated by what had happened, but what's done is done. Also, he felt sorry for Sophia - she had no idea why he acted that way towards Tom and could be blaming herself for the fallout.

"I'm sorry, Sophia," was all Barty managed to say and left.

* * *

The weekend for the first Quidditch match of the season came. Hogwarts seemed to be positively electrified by the upcoming duel between Slytherin and Gryffindor. The rivalry between the two Houses is legendary and Quidditch matches were the only ways the rivalry can be settled without hurling illegal hexes at each other.

Weeks had passed after the library incident and it became fodder to stoke the fire between Gryffindor and Slytherin. The Gryffindor captain could not hide his disappointment with Barty's action, it was very ungentlemanly he said. Gordon and the other boys thought it was very brazen for Crouch to turn against all those Slytherins, their voices tinged with admiration and also worry.

"Mark my words, Crouch," advised Minerva McGonagall. She was the only girl in the team and the sole voice of reason. "Those Slytherins are going to make you pay in the pitch, watch out for that."

Barty's jaw tightened with Minerva's threatening words. Actually, he did not have to wait for the match to see that the Slytherins took it personally. Snide remarks followed him everywhere and classes he shared with the Slytherins always turned nasty. He already had three pewter cauldrons melt without notice; on his last Transfiguration class, his properly transfigured glass goblet turned rogue. His Slytherin classmates laughed maliciously at these incidents but Barty had no proof that it had been their doing.

* * *

The morning of the match he and his teammates spent breakfast together in a show of camaraderie. The whole Gryffindor table whooped in delight as they emerged in the Hall, red and gold confetti spraying everywhere. Barty's spirit buoyed for an instant, his worries temporarily forgotten. He took a seat next to Gordon and both of them ate their meal heartily. But due to a force of habit, he scanned the Great Hall and looked over the Hufflepuff table. He could not find Sophia anywhere; he had not talked to her properly after the whole thing and all the cheerfulness he felt fell through.

The Slytherins suddenly broke in applause as their own team made their way into the Great Hall. They banged their hands on the table making a lot of noise with the Slytherin captain encouraging them to go louder. Someone in the Gryffindor table took it as a challenge and got the Gryffindor table to cheer louder. Just then Headmaster Dippet appeared at the Head Table along with Professors Slughorn and Dumbledore. The three watched over the hall in surprise as the cheering competition between the Houses grew fever pitch.

Headmaster Dippet, despite his age and countenance, hushed the whole crowd with a wave of his wand. "Well, I think the match today is going to turn rather exciting," quipped the headmaster. "You're all going to turn hoarse and the match hasn't even started yet, who's going to cheer for your teams there?" he added mischievously.

"At least Headmaster, no one's going to be able to hex the players at the pitch," teased Professor Slughorn. The other professors at the head table chuckled and nervous laughter came from the students.

Barty felt the anxiety of the upcoming match creep in. He felt confident that he would do well in the match but a small voice in his head spoke in protest. He wished that he could talk to Sophia right now, but she was nowhere in sight. He sighed and ate the last morsel of his meal before their team captain stood up and ordered for them to head to the Quidditch pitch.

* * *

**Author's Note** : I liked how I began this chapter but I have to apologize for the clumsiness of the ending. The reason I chose Barty Crouch Sr. as a kind of rival for Tom during his Hogwarts years is that I find them to be extremely similar yet very different; but it is undeniable that both are so keen on being _perfect, _albeit they chose different paths to achieving that perfection. I also found it fun to write a very insecure Barty Sr. as opposed to a suave Tom. Please review and rate, thanks guys :)


	3. Minerva, Fall 1941

**Hogwarts, November 1941**

* * *

A burst of sunshine greeted Minerva and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team as they exited the Great Hall. The sun shone brightly and nary had a cloud flown about the clear blue sky_. Excellent Quidditch weather_, Minerva noted. As if reading her mind, their captain (and Seeker) David O'Hare, pointed out the great conditions as they made their way towards the Quidditch pitch.

Their captain sounded optimistic and Minerva could not help herself but be in the same positive disposition. Despite three new members to their team (McKinnon as Beater, Crouch as Keeper and Fenwick as her fellow Chaser), the Gryffindor team has never been stronger.

With her prefect duties and the pressure of O.W.L.'s, she was worried she would be too busy and tired to even contemplate playing Quidditch. But something about it always pulled her back. During the summer, she seldom had the chance to play - her father was a Muggle minister and it would be too scandalous for anyone to see her flying at top speed on her broom all over the Scottish countryside. Being a proper individual mattered highly for her father, as it did to her. Around Hogwarts, she was known as a no-nonsense girl and a highly gifted student. So maybe it was the freedom of Quidditch that made her like it so much, she could let herself go for a just a little bit.

* * *

They finally made their way to the locker rooms and changed into their scarlet robes. Fenwick kept asking her for advice and she patiently answered his questions. She still remembers her first ever Quidditch match, unlike Fenwick she could hardly speak anything to her teammates and was hit by a Bludger five minutes into the game.

"First game of the season, now eh, lads?" O'Hare began with his typical Irish drawl. David looked over at Minerva and gave her a wink. "And _lass_, of course," he continued, with a cheeky smile plastered on his face. Minerva gave him such a scowl that a bit of his grin disappeared and the others had to chuckle for a spot.

"Ah, yes where was I? " David fumbled, timidly stroking his neck before going on. "First game of the season, against those Slytherins," some of the boys booed and the captain motioned with his hands for the boys to settle down. "Not a nice way to start the year, I know. They don't have new players in their team, meaning that they are more senior than us in terms of experience. However - " he grabbed their three new members and raised their arms in the air. The boys looked a bit shocked by David's behavior, it is clear they have not been briefed in the O'Hare style of pep talks. "We've got new _blood_ on our side!" David declared, pumping his fist into air straight into the air full of his classic bravado. The other boys clapped and cheered along with David, though Crouch looked uncomfortable with all the attention.

Come to think of it, Crouch had looked very peaky since this morning. Then Minerva remembered all about the library incident. Why Crouch would go against those Slytherin brutes, she had no idea. Maybe they had been giving him a hard time and was incredibly nervous about the upcoming match. Poor fellow.

"All right, everyone. Let's head out and make sure to kick those Slytherins a –," but whatever it was David wanted them to kick, they never found out as Madam Twonk, the Quidditch mistress of Hogwarts burst into their locker room and ushered them out onto the playing field.

* * *

The match kicked into high-gear the minute all their brooms flew up into the air. Madam Twonk's whistle had barely made a sound when the Slytherins started to make their move. The Slytherin Seeker bolted to the sky so quickly that David had a hard time catching up with him. The Chasers for Slytherin moved really rapidly as well, gaining possession of the Quaffle first. Minerva let out a sound of frustration and blamed her lack of concentration for missing the Quaffle. She urged her fellow Chasers to follow her lead and they flanked the Slytherin Chaser in possession. From the corner of her eyes, she can see the Slytherin Beaters ominously hanging above them.

Black Bludgers zoomed around Minerva as she tried to take the Quaffle. They moved nearer and nearer the Gryffindor posts and as the Slytherin threw the Quaffle to score, she grabbed the ball midair. But as soon as she did, she saw a flash of black fly past her right shoulder. A Bludger narrowly missed her! She breathed a sigh of relief but she did not have any time to relax. She urged her broom to move forward towards the Slytherin goal posts and scored the first ten points of the game.

* * *

It was strange. _Very strange_. Minerva could not put her finger on it but there was something off about the match. Gryffindor had already scored a hundred points to Slytherins nil but it did not feel as though the Slytherins were not playing as hard as they were. On the contrary, the Chasers always tried to gain control of the Quaffle and they did not waste time in trying to score a point They were never near the goal area when they try to score though and whenever Gryffindor takes the Quaffle, those brutish Slytherin Beaters made sure that a Bludger would zip past them. She scanned the sky and saw the Seekers weaving in and around everything on the pitch in very high speeds.

Focus, Minerva, _focus_, she told herself. You're just anxious, that's all, nothing to worry about –

Minerva turned her eyes to the Gryffindor goal posts and her heart sank. Crouch flew around the goal posts in an alarming fashion. She distinctly remembers the speed and precision Crouch displayed the week before in practice; his father had just given him the newest Cleansweep model in time for their first match. He might have started a bit green but he promptly proved his worth, Crouch played efficiently and was an asset to the team. But now, Crouch looked like he barely had control over his Cleansweep and it did not look brand new anymore. A huge chunk was missing in the tail end and the handle was bruised and battered. His hair was severely windswept and a trickle of blood flowed from his nose.

The Slytherins again had possession of the Quaffle, but this time Minerva did not try to interfere. Fenwick did though, and as another failed attempt of the Slytherins to score happened, he swooped down to get the falling Quaffle. Sure enough another Bludger 'missed' him, barreling towards…

"Barty!" Minerva cried. The Bludger hit him straight in the chest, sending him spinning around the goal posts. She expected him to fall but against all odds, he stayed afloat but just barely.

"McKinnon, guard Crouch. They're trying to take him out!" she bellowed at Gordon. McKinnon gave a quick glance at Crouch's direction and his eyes grew in horror. He nodded and flew towards his friend. Those sneaky bastards, she realized. They were intentionally missing those Quaffles so that Gryffindor would try to capture the ball, giving them an excuse to send a Bludger in their way. The Bludger would miss them and hurtle towards their intended target, the Keeper.

She hoped it was not too late. They had a hundred point advantage over Slytherin. Surely, that meant something.

* * *

They lost the game, 330 – 250. When the Slytherins saw McKinnon looming around Crouch, they realized their game was up. Minerva had not seen Slytherin play as aggressively as they did that match. They scored so many points with their Chasers (Crouch had been helpless against them) that it did not matter that David had caught the Snitch. They played for well over two hours and the Gryffindor team made a bee-line for the hospital wing after the match.

* * *

Crouch had a bed set-up for him while the rest of the team huddled around him, all nursing ice packs next to their aching muscles. Crouch suffered a fractured forearm and bruised ribs. He had been made to drink a vicious looking potion right after he entered the wing. He grimaced as he took a sip of the potion but fell asleep shortly after he drank everything. While he slept, Minerva discussed the strategy she thought Slytherin had used against them. Everyone looked angry and heated, their jaws clenching.

"Dirty, cheating omadhauns," cursed David. "That was pretty low, even for Slytherins." He chucked the ice pack he had been holding in disgust.

"They really had it in for him, you know," Gordon mumbled darkly. "Avery and Lestrange, in particular," he shuddered, closing his eyes for a bit. "They hit those Bludgers, really, really hard. Merlin, I should have guessed what they were doing…"

"Don't blame yourself Gordon," a muted voice spoke.

It was Crouch. He got up from his bed gingerly and turned to face David, remorse filling his eyes. "If anything, it was my mistake. I should've dodged those Bludgers sooner and I –," his voice cracked as he spoke. "David, I can understand if you want me out of the team, I'm afraid I haven't been of much use…" He hung his head in shame and would not look at anyone.

"You bloody fool!" exclaimed David sharply. "Those Bludgers must've knocked you harder than I thought. I wouldn't kick you out of the team, Crouch! Wouldn't dream of it," he playfully hit Crouch on the shoulders and a bit of David's humor came back to him. "Don't be too hard on yourself mate," David faced the rest of the team and continued. "This goes to all of you as well. So what, we lost the first match… We can always try and win the other ones, right?"

"Erm, excuse me."

The whole team turned in unison towards the source of the voice. A tiny girl in the shadows was making her way to them. When the light from the windows fell on her willowy frame, Minerva recognized her as Sophia Smith, a fourth-year Hufflepuff.

"Hello, I am, uhm, I'm here to see if Barty's doing fine," she explained as she looked at David. She stood at the end of Crouch's bed, as if afraid to go nearer. A sense of awkwardness hung in the air; Minerva thought that maybe Sophia expected to see Barty alone and had not counted on having the whole Gryffindor team hanging about.

"Well, I guess I better head back," Sophia turned her head towards the door. She moved her foot to go but then Crouch spoke.

"Wait," he said, his voice pleading. "Sophia…" Barty stared intently at Sophia. She in turn looked at him as closely.

"_I'm sorry_!" The two of them spoke at the same time and looked surprised as they did. Sophia laughed nervously and Barty bit his lip stifling a grin.

"I shouldn't have made such a fuss back in the library," Crouch shook his head and stared at his lap. "I didn't know what came over me, it was all very confusing…"

"No, no – it was _my_ fault. I shouldn't have let Tom read your paper. It wasn't mine and I could've said no…" protested Sophia, waving her hands around.

_Oh_, Minerva had to smile to herself. "I think we should better be going. Don't you think so, O'Hare?" Minerva announced as she got up and collected her things. She looked at David and arched an eyebrow. David furrowed his brows trying to understand what Minerva meant. Really, was it obvious only to her?

"Yes, yes, I _remember_!" cried McKinnon. Apparently he got the message too and shot a sly gaze at Barty. "Let's go, let's go everyone," he said as he ushered the other boys up their chairs, guiding them to leave. McKinnon whispered something to the other boys and a look of comprehension spread across their faces. They all now hurried to leave and Minerva rolled her eyes. Finally, she thought.

Sophia though found their sudden interest to leave puzzling. She told them they could stay but Gordon was having none of it.

"Barty would rather you stay, I'm pretty sure," Gordon teased and for somebody who had a broken forearm, Barty hit Gordon pretty hard with his ice pack. This little exchange seemed to confuse Sophia further.

"Well, if you all really have to leave, I'll stay behind here then," said Sophia despite her misgivings. "Oh yes, before I forget. Professor Slughorn asked me to give you these," Sophia took something out of her pocket and handed it to Minerva. It was a pumpkin shaped card with her name monogrammed in gold. Sophia handed David a similar card as well. "When I said I was going to visit Barty, he told me I might see the two of you."

Minerva thanked Sophia and put the card in her pocket. And as she reached the door, Minerva could not help but look back at those two. Sophia was chatting away merrily with Barty looking at her in rapt attention. Nobody could have guessed that he had been pummeled at the Quidditch pitch by the way his face lit up.

* * *

Minerva opened the card and saw it was an invitation for a Halloween party for Slug Club. She had forgotten all about Halloween, with her attention focused on the match that day. She really did not feel excited about the party, Professor Slughorn was the House Head for Slytherin and some Slug Club members were from the Slytherin Quidditch team. They were sure to gloat about their win that day and Minerva was not keen on having to listen to that all night.

However she chose to swallow her pride and decided to attend anyway. It would be rude not to come and Slughorn's parties always tend to be rather exciting. He had probably invited someone particularly important for this Halloween party and Minerva could not help but be curious.

When Professor Slughorn invited her to join Slug Club a year ago, she could hardly believe it. She had always thought he was very partial to his Slytherins – and he was. But Professor Slughorn did give other promising students in other Houses a chance. He handpicked certain students to become part of the Slug Club and those who had been members tend to be successful in their careers outside Hogwarts. Minerva had to admit she liked the idea that Slughorn thought she would be an important person one day, and despite being a proud Gryffindor she desired to be in Slughorn's good books.

* * *

Instead of joining the other students in celebrating Halloween at the Great Hall, she headed down the staircase towards the dungeons. The way to Slughorn's offices made her nervous. During the day it was not as uncomfortable but walking the corridors to the dungeons at night was a different matter all together. She had asked David (who had also been invited) if he would come with her. But David thought she meant differently. She brisked at his reaction and put him down straight that she did not mean what he thought he meant. However David said he would not be coming and even though he did not say why, Minerva knew. David may not admit it but he did feel badly about losing the match. It was David's last year after all and of course winning the House Cup would mean a lot. He had to lick his wounds to heal, metaphorically speaking and being in the company of those Slytherins so soon is not a good idea.

As Minerva turned a corner, she saw a small figure at the end of the corridor. She initially thought it was a ghost but actually it was the blonde head of a girl. The girl looked familiar and as she turned Minerva saw it was Sophia Smith. She called out to her and Sophia stopped walking then smiled and waved.

"Heading to Slughorn's office?" Minerva asked as she caught up with Sophia. Sophia answered yes as they made their way onwards. Minerva felt slightly better now having somebody walk the corridor with her.

"It's my first time being invited to one of Professor Slughorn's parties. I wonder what it's like?" spoke Sophia, more to herself rather than a question to Minerva.

"Well, Slughorn starts by asking us about our day then we discuss various topics. Whatever our interests are, we talk about it," Minerva said. They do a lot of talking at the Slug Club, she had to confess. "The conversations do get really interesting; there are very bright students in the Slug Club."

"Is that so? Then I wonder why Barty was so cross at not being invited. I told him Slughorn would not mind him dropping by, I think," Sophia pursed her lips. "If that's what happens at Slug Club parties, I don't think he's missing out on a lot."

Sophia did not sound interested about the prospects of Slug Club but probably accepted the invitation out of politeness, she did seem to be of that sort of personality. Minerva shrugged her shoulders and accepted that Slug Club may not be everyone's cup of tea. They reached the door to Slughorn's offices and made their way inside.

* * *

**Author's Note** : It was fun writing a story based on the POV of my favorite Hogwarts prof, McG! Writing a Quidditch-themed fanfic was a bitch, though but I kinda liked the end result :D Next story - Abraxas' POV! And the Knights of Walpurgis, woot woot!

P.S. Big shout out to** nekochan354 **my first ever follower :D


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